


We Should Be One

by asumiko



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Boys Kissing, Demisexuality, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Xixi's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 12:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asumiko/pseuds/asumiko
Summary: Whilst Jian Yi was away, Zheng Xi had a lot of time to reflect on himself, and how he felt towards his best friend. Turns out that sexuality is fucking complicated, and he still hasn't figured everything out, but he is now certain enough about his attraction to Jian Yi to do something about it.





	We Should Be One

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the follow up to the first official art, where they are about to kiss. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, written very quickly, forgive any mistakes or lack of quality. 
> 
> Haven't reread the whole thing in a long time, but pretty sure the whole fandom is uncertain about how Old Xian will deal with the future arc. So place this in one of the many possible AUs of their future. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. All referenced characters and story belong to Old Xian.

I wonder when I started seeing him for how he truly is. Through the same prism a random passerby or a classmate might use to view him. We’ve been friends for so long that all his signifiers had lost their meaning: his gender, his looks, his moods, facial expressions, habits, fashion, way of talking, walking, sleeping. Up until recently, it was like I was blind to all of these things, because he’s my best friend, and I’ve known him for so long that I got used to looking beyond all of that to just the important stuff. And that makes me feel fucking strange, because I’m simultaneously discovering how to not take him for granted, but I also miss being so attuned to his existence. I’m sure the dangerous experiences of our middle school era were part of it. Maybe also puberty? Mine or his? I don’t think he’s changed that much since we were kids.

I’ve suspected for a couple of years now that I don’t seem to feel sexual attraction like other boys my age. I never used to fantasise about kissing or having sex because I couldn’t even imagine how it could physically feel good, let alone anything more abstract than that. For the most part, that hasn’t changed. Sometimes, I see people I find beautiful, or even sexually attractive, but I have no impulse to touch them or for them to be attractive _near me_. Is that the same thing as “aesthetic beauty”? But when I say “attractive”, I do mean that it makes something inside my chest painfully retract and expand throughout my body, which I guess is what people refer to as “desire”. I’m not sure how common it is to want a glossary so that I don’t have to go through this mindfuck by myself.

He, on the other hand, seems to have figured it out ages ago. All that craziness that was somewhere between a kiss, a love confession, and a fucking you-pain-in-the-ass-how-dare-you-touch-me moment has also started to fuzz around the edges. What exactly was my problem there anyway that I reacted so violently? The fact that he didn’t ask? Books and cartoons would have you believe that no one asks. He was also quite young and, as far as I understand it now, been agonising about doing that kind of thing for years by that point.

Ok, so 1. He didn’t ask. At the time, I thought it might also have to do with the fact that he’s a boy, but I think I would’ve punched him even if he wasn’t, because it’s Jian Yi, and I’ve always treated him a bit like I owned him. Which, fuck. Probably didn’t help his crush. But anyway, I am only vaguely aware of how his gender defines him in any way, so I don’t think that was the problem.

But I can definitely say 2. The feeling of it. Wet, and slimy, and kinda painful. Once again, the problem wasn’t really who done it, it was me not wanting any of that shit. Which I think brings us to the most important point 3. I didn’t understand why people did that. What felt good about it? Did people kiss for the meaning it conveyed, of love? As a socially required prelude to sex? What could there be in the act itself that could justify the action to me? And not understanding it made me fear it. It made me feel unsafe. I guess that’s how people who aren’t men feel all the fucking time when people are attracted to them. There is something about not understanding the emotion you’re eliciting in someone, the energy they are directing at you, that is fucking terrifying.

Eventually, I realised that, as dodgy as it may sound, I held enough power over Jian Yi that I had nothing to fear. If anything, I was the one capable of unsettling him. I probably unsettle him all the time. I know I’m not the most expressive bastard out there. Living with him has admittedly given me a bit of a power trip. Before he disappeared, I feel like I’d gotten to the point where I conveyed the important stuff: yes, I know you like me, yes, of course we love each other, no, I wouldn’t really know what to do about that anyway, please, can we just keep going like this forever? I now realise that was quite selfish of me, to expect him to understand me without talking it out. Maybe my attitude kept him hopeful? Or did our friendship only get stronger because he was content with what I was giving him? Talk about codependent.

Now, when I look at him, I feel like he’s an optical illusion. One moment, he’ll be the person I know best in the whole wide world, that knows me the best because I have little interest in sharing myself with anyone else. Then I’ll remember that there’s a massive gap of knowledge between us that can’t be resolved by “Tell me what happened.” When I was there, with him, every day, I could feel what he was thinking, experiencing, I could see it and hear it and _feel_ it. This unexplainable conviction I had that we somehow shared a consciousness (obviously, at the time, I wouldn’t have described It quite like this), that I didn’t have to tell him anything because he would somehow magically know. In the same way that I thought I knew everything about him.

Oh, and here we have 4. I wasn’t expecting it. Finding out that my whole theory of spiritually knowing everything about each other was a load of bullshit? Not good. Kinda scary. If he wasn’t who I knew him to be, who the fuck was sat next to me all the time? Which is a bit how I feel now, but without being freaked out. Okay, so Jian Yi actually exists when I’m not there and I need to imagine him complexly. Cool, I can do that. But because of this fucking dynamic that _I_ have created of not being straightforward with each other, I have no clue how to start closing this massive gap of knowledge except by maybe, god forbid, communicating.

He’s told me a bit about the shit that happened to him while he was away, and I’m old enough to understand that not even a day-by-day recounting of it will make a difference. That time is lost. Something between us has fractured. But maybe it’s just that our old relationship is fading into the mist. Which doesn’t mean we can’t start a new one, with who we are today.

I think it’s only right that I bring it up with him, as I’m the one that’s had the sudden revelation that I want to touch him. He’s aesthetically beautiful, I’m attracted to him, I love him, and I want to feel those things right _at him_ instead of from afar. I’ve thought a lot about whether I would like kissing him, to test my own sincerity. The truth is that, still not knowing what kissing is like, I won’t know until I try it. But there’s something deeper and darker within me that makes me think I could do anything with him and like it, so long as he desired it. I feel like I could channel his sexuality, his sensations, and learn via imitation what I’m supposed to feel and want. And although this kind of thinking brings back up the issue of sincerity, I feel like my desire to let him do as he pleases is as authentic as wanting things of my own volition. I’m not at all worried that I’ll recoil, but I am curious to see whether I will only be able to mirror him, or whether these natural instincts that everyone else seems to possess will emerge.

Only one way to find out.

* * *

We are sitting in the living room in a chaos of our things. Video games, magazines, take-out boxes, dirty laundry. Am I lame for liking how our stuff is all mixed together? A bit like how I imagine our lives to be.

Seeing Jian Yi in his school uniform makes me feel like a dirty pervert. It’s not like I don’t watch porn. I watch a lot of it, and all sorts of weird shit at that. I’m pretty sure that you could give me the most repulsive type of porn, and so long as the participants were enjoying the fuck out of it, I’d be able to wank to it. Any kink works for me if I’m able to feel it through the people enacting it. And sometimes I feel like I’ve absorbed so much of other people’s tastes that I’ve adopted their gaze. And perhaps that’s why I can now too clearly see the appeal of Jian Yi as a schoolboy. I’m even getting flashbacks to when he used to wear school shorts. He’s always been beautiful, and I wonder whether I have the right to say it without being creepy because we’ve been the same age, and I was there for every phase of the evolution.

Sometimes I pretend that it bothers me having him in my space, but it’s more that I’m falling back on old habits. I’m so relieved that he’s here, always right in front of me where I can know that he’s safe, that my stupid man-brain chooses the most unhealthy way of expressing it.

I’ve been trying to figure out whether I should wait for one of those moments when he’s looking at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted. Or some sort of tender moment more linked to friendship. But that feels staged, and inauthentic, because it implies that I know what to do in those situations. I’ll just have to create my own situation.

“I’ve been thinking about you.” I turn off my console but keep it in a vice grip. He's lying sprawled on the sofa, in that way that makes me think he’s so unselfconscious around me because he assumes I’m completely unaffected by that sliver of skin.

“Huh? Say that again?” As usual, like whenever I talk to him, his complete attention is on me in a second. Maybe that’s what hass always made me uncomfortable. This devotion that I didn’t feel I deserved. Made me suspect that anyone would start having ideas, knowing they had so much power over someone, and that's why he tempted me, rather than for legitimate reasons. It’s nice to finally ascertain that I’d be feeling this way regardless.

“You, Jian Yi. I’ve been thinking about you. For a while, actually. You know, about how I feel towards you,” I say, trying to look him straight in the eye.

“Y-yeah?” He’s blushing. I’m pretty sure I find that charming all on my own.

“Yeah. Can we talk about it?” I don’t know if it would be better or worse if I wasn’t so expressionless and monotone. He’s getting nervous.

Making space for himself on the floor, strewing a few things around, he sits cross-legged right in front of me, slightly beyond arm's reach. The fact that he’s matured and learnt about boundaries is definitely another reason for my sudden surge in attraction.

“Listen,” he says, tucking a stray lock behind his ear, “if I still make you uncomfortable, being so intimately in your space and everything, I can always find another place? I can admit that I’ve kind of been forcing it, trying to pretend that we could be so close as if I wasn’t, you know.” I haven’t seen him this insecure in so long. In fact, I am the only person that’s ever made him feel small. 

“No," I say, waiting for him to look at me properly, "I want you to stay.” Ah fuck, that look of tentative hope in his eyes. “What I’m trying to say is that, put simply, if you still want me, I think that now I want you too.” He’s totally freaking out, and I’m definitely a sadist for liking it. “Stay still. I’m gonna say it super matter-of-factly, and I don’t know how it’s gonna sound because I have no clue how this stuff works in real life, but you’re gonna try and get me, okay?” A slow nod. I’m not too sure if being able to see his veins under his skin is healthy, but with the sun streaming through, it definitely looks pretty.

A deep breath.

“So, I’ve done a lot of soul-searching, if you will. By the way, this is probably the most you’ve ever heard me talk." This must be what it's like to feel hysterical. "I had a bit of a sexuality crisis while you were gone. I couldn’t understand myself, and I still don’t. So you’re going to have to help me, and explain stuff, and tell me what to do, and what you want. But I’ve concluded that I can only touch someone I already have feelings for. Which is why I’ve always turned everyone down. And I’ve also realised that it really doesn’t matter if this person is a boy. Because you’re my best friend, and I think I might love you the same way you love me, I just need some guidance.” Jian Yi is looking more and more confused, and I don’t know what that means, but as always he’s listening. He always listens to me. I’m okay. “And I also don’t want to make it sound like I can be with you just because of some platonic bond. I’ve been _looking_, and liking what I’m seeing.” Almost involuntarily, I scan my eyes over his body, which makes him clench his hands over his knees. Definitely an appealing reaction. "Do you still want me?”

After a few false starts, Jian Yi manages to speak in his newly gravelly voice: “Of course I still fucking want you. I always will. What is this? What is happening?” Ok Zheng Xi, don’t let that reaction discourage you. He’s just in shock.

“I want us to give it a go. I want to try being with you. In all ways. But I need you to guide me. Will you kiss me?”

“Xixi, if this is just curiosity because I’m here and panting to fucking do anything to please you, that’s fine but please tell me now.” He looks fierce, and scared, and hopeful.

“It’s not just curiosity. And I know you would. I know because I feel the same for you.”

Those seemed to be the magic words. A new adult version of Jian Yi is emerging from behind his eyes; the man I’m starting to fall in love with on top of all the other Jian Yis I already know.

Almost as if trying not to spook a small animal, he's crawling over to me (yep, definitely into that) without breaking eye contact. My lack of nervousness is all the self-confirmation I need. When he rests his long, bony fingers on my thigh, I feel a frisson run through me. It’s unlike all the other times he’s touched me. Perhaps because, for this, his primary motivation is desire.

“Are you sure?” he asks, gently. It’s incredible that you can know someone all your life and realise that you’ve never really faced them and _seen_ them. I could just imagine him thinking that it must be a dream, but he sure as hell was going to play along anyway.

“Kiss me.”

I don’t think I’m supposed to be this conscious of everything. His transparent eyelashes fluttering to his cheeks, his weight pressing down through his hand into my thigh, his body heat hitting me. At first, my brain doesn’t compute. I had somehow transformed the concept of lips in my mind to have transcendental properties or something, but it just feels like skin. At first, it’s just a lot of softness moulding together. Then I remember that they are Jian Yi’s lips, and I want to do something, but the slide just feels weird. Putting a hand on my neck, he tilts my head in the opposite direction to his, and our lips interlock in a totally new way, now slightly wet. I feel a pull towards the physicality of him that I never could’ve imagined. After one more motion of pressure, he pulls back, and I try to chase. Not really knowing what I’d do if I got there. The look in his eyes is unreadable.

“So? Am I really something you want?” There’s something almost angry in the way he asks, as if my answer will be the final curtain call to a farce.

“Can you show me some more? And can I put my hand through your hair while you do it?” My heart is beating so fast. That’s one physiological response I can identify. But there’s so many other things going on within me, that I might not be able to decipher them until after many, many more kisses.

“Can I be more intense?” asked Jian Yi.

“Heh, that's very you. I want you to make me do what you want.” Something shifts again behind his eyes, then suddenly my hand is shoved into his hair, asking me to grip hard. My thighs are spread wide so that he can fill that space right up against my chest, where he fits perfectly to form a whole.

This time, it’s totally different. It’s not just skin and flesh moving together. Tongues get involved, and I realise that I want to lick his mouth inside out. When he pulls me in, I instinctively pull back out, and his teeth lightly graze across my tongue, sending spikes to my groin. I want to do that to him. Imitating the movement, I pull him closer and smash our mouths together, teeth clacking, and why is that supposed to be bad, I want all the contact possible, and I close my teeth on his pink, pink tongue but end up biting. The sound he makes is practically inhuman. From here on out, I'm losing all sense of objectivity. From behind my closed eyelids, I feel like I am watching a 3D reconstruction of the insides of our mouths. Jian Yi is everywhere (it never occurred to me that when kissing you also taste them, drink them in) and he’s making the grateful little sounds of a dying man being saved.

I don’t know who is straddling whom, or for how long we’ve been making out for my lips to be bruised, but I get lost in my nostalgic, comforting delusion that, at least in this moment, we are feeling, thinking, perceiving, existing as one.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr if you wanna chat:
> 
> https://asumikowrites.tumblr.com


End file.
